In 1954, in the cookhouse of a logging and sawmill settlement in northern New Hampshire, an anxious, gun-carrying, twelve-year-old boy mistakes the local constable's girlfriend for a bear. Both the boy and his father become fugitives, forced to run from Coos County - to Boston, to southern Vermont, to Toronto - pursued by the implacable constable. Their lone protector is a fiercely libertarian logger, once a river driver, who befriends them.
In a story spanning five decades, Last Night in Twisted River - John Irving's twelfth novel - depicts the recent half-century in the United States as 'a living replica of Coos County, where lethal hatreds were generally permitted to run their course'. From the novel's taut opening sentence - 'The young Canadian, who could not have been more than fifteen, had hesitated too long' - to its elegiac final chapter, Last Night in Twisted River is written with the historical authenticity and emotional authority of The Cider House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany. It is also as disturbing a story as John Irving's breakthrough bestseller, The World According to Garp.
What further distinguishes it is the author's unmistakable voice - the inimitable voice of an accomplished storyteller.
